


Tumblr Prompt Fics

by woodelf



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Kid Loki (Marvel), Kid Thor (Marvel), Kid ages are given in Midgardian equivalents for simplicity, Odin (Marvel)'s Good Parenting, Parent Frigga (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25729504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodelf/pseuds/woodelf
Summary: Short ficlets inspired by tumblr prompts.
Relationships: Frigga | Freyja & Loki & Odin & Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja & Loki (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja & Thor (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja/Odin (Marvel), Loki & Odin (Marvel), Odin & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 30





	1. Bedtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lokijiro prompted: I imagine tiny Loki wrapped in a fluffy towel, out of his bath and squeaky clean. He’s happy to quietly sit on Frigga’s lap while she conjures some wind to dry his hair and brushes it. There’s some commotion in the background : the maids are still trying to catch Thor and give him his bath.

"Your bath is ready, Prince Thor."

"I don't need one." Thor carefully moved two of his toy soldiers, and studied the placement of his battlefield troops. 

Nanna, the princes' nursemaid, raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "You most certainly do." 

"Do not." 

"Do." She moved forward to take hold of the prince's arm, but Thor jumped up and backed away. 

"I'll take it if you can catch me," he bargained, then danced back, grinning, as Nanna lunged for him. He moved behind a small table; she moved right and he moved left, she moved left and he moved right. 

"Why must you be so stubborn?" she demanded. 

"He gets it from his father," Frigga said without missing a beat, and Nanna couldn't quite hide her laugh. "Do you need any help, my dear?"

"I do not," said Nanna firmly, narrowing her eyes at Thor. She charged around the table and Thor turned and fled, jumping onto the couch and vaulting over the back of it in an impressively athletic move. 

"Your brother is being very naughty," Frigga confided to the small boy in her lap. Loki giggled, his eyes wide as he watched Thor head for the nursery door. 

Glancing behind him as he ran, Thor didn’t notice the new person who had just entered the nursery until he ran up against a pair of legs, two strong hands coming down to rest on his shoulders to steady him and keep him from falling. He looked up and swallowed hard. 

“Going somewhere, young man?” Odin asked, his face an inscrutable mask. 

Thor squared his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “No, sir.” 

“Should you _be_ somewhere?”

Thor tried not to fidget under his father’s one-eyed stare. “My bath,” he admitted. 

“Then you will apologise to Nanna for making her chase after dirty little boys with an aversion to being clean. I’m sure she has better things to do with her time.” 

Thor flushed scarlet. Odin waited, watching him visibly trying to master his temper. Perhaps that had been a little harsh, but he’d just come from a long meeting with some quarrelsome nobles and his temper was frayed. 

Thor turned to his nursemaid and lifted his chin with admirable control. “My apologies,” he said stiffly. 

“Apology accepted,” said Nanna, and gave him a little smile. 

Thor relaxed a little, then felt even better when he felt his father squeeze his shoulder in approval. 

“Off to your bath,” Odin said. “And I’ll be along shortly to make sure that you are actually washing up.” 

Thor rolled his eyes, but obediently stomped off to the bathroom attached to the nursery.

“He’s not a bad boy,” Nanna said, feeling compelled to defend her young charge. “It’s just high spirits.” 

“I know he’s not, but he does need to learn to do as he’s told. Go ahead and have your dinner; I’ll take care of getting our young scamps down for the night.” 

Nanna curtsied and left the nursery. 

Odin went in to where Loki was still sitting contentedly on Frigga’s lap as she ran a soft hairbrush through his curling hair, the picture of absolute innocence and good behaviour. Odin smiled. 

“What about you, my son? Did you take your bath like a good boy?”

“Yes,” Loki affirmed. “I like baths.” 

“You do, don’t you? Are you our little froggie?” He reached for Loki and Frigga passed him up to him with a smile, still wrapped in his fluffy hooded bath robe. 

“ _Ribbit_!” said Loki cheerfully, doing his best frog imitation, and Odin smiled, thinking about it. Loki always _had_ liked baths, ever since he’d been a baby. Baths and playing in fountains and wading in the brook that ran through the garden and splashing in puddles after a rainstorm. It was interesting, considering that on his native realm almost all of the water that existed was in a frozen state. Although perhaps it was simply a little boy thing, since Thor had no objection to puddles or playing in the brook, just baths. Odin sighed and silently thanked the Norns that they had at least one son who didn’t fight his bedtime. 

“You can pick the story for tonight, since you were ready first,” Odin promised, breathing in the fresh herbal scent of his son’s newly-washed hair as he pressed a kiss to it. “You can think about which one you want while Thor takes his bath.” He passed Loki back to Frigga, who looked at him in a way that made him feel, uncomfortably, as if he had disappointed her.

“Odin, Thor didn’t deserve to be spoken to as you did. He’d only been running around for a minute; Nanna didn't want any help or I would have stepped in. But I’d rather have Thor burn off any extra energy he still has before we try to settle him down for bed.” 

Odin pursed his lips and gave a stiff nod of acknowledgement after a moment. Satisfied, she stood Loki up on the bed and took his robe off, giving him a last brisk rub to make sure he was dry before holding up one of his soft green nightshirts. “Arms up,” she instructed. 

Loki obediently put his arms up, and disappeared momentarily into the nightshirt when Frigga dropped it over his head. He wriggled his arms through the sleeves and his head popped through the neckhole as she helped tug the nightshirt down. 

Odin went into the bathroom and found Thor just about to step into his bath and scooped him up from behind, eliciting a yell of surprise from Thor and a wild kick back which made Odin glad that Thor’s feet were bare. He held him out over the tub. “Perhaps I should just throw you in the tub every evening, like a sack of potatoes.” 

Thor stopped wriggling, and thought of the splash. “Yes, do it!”

Odin chuckled and lowered him in carefully instead. “Unfortunately, you might crack your head open and then your mother would be very angry with me. How about we go down to the pool in the woods one day and I’ll fling you in there instead?”

Thor sat down in the water and grinned up at him. “Yes! And Loki too?”

“Well, we’ll take him along but he’s still too little for flinging into deep water. He can practice his swimming, though. Wash up, now.” 

Thor picked up the soap and began to wash himself briskly, accompanied by his father’s occasional reminders not to forget behind his ears or his elbows. Thor tried to twist his arms to see if his elbows were noticeably dirty but it was hard to see. “Do my back?” he asked when that was the only thing left, and leaned forward as Odin took the proffered wash cloth and the soap. The rough scrub of the cloth felt good, and he gave a faint hum of pleasure, tipping his head forward and stretching out his neck hopefully, pleased when his father took the hint and ran the cloth up his neck and over his shoulders before rinsing it out and using the cup sitting on the edge of the bath to sluice warm water over him, rinsing away the soap. 

Seeing Thor finally relaxing and growing sleepy-looking, Odin took his time, knowing the pleasure of a good back wash himself. But finally he put the cloth and cup aside and pushed himself to his feet, picking up and spreading open the waiting bath towel. “All right, come on out.” 

Thor pulled the plug and stood up and Odin wrapped the towel around him, letting go when Thor took hold of the ends. “I’ll let your mother and Loki know you’ll be out soon.” 

Thor nodded, but his brows had drawn together. He’d thought his father angry with him, when he’d come into the nursery, but then he’d come into the bathroom and it had been nice, having his father to himself for a little while, and it seemed like he had forgiven Thor, but he had to be sure. “Father, I’m sorry I was running around before.” 

“Apologies mean nothing if not accompanied by changed actions.” 

“I won’t do it again, I promise.” 

Odin smiled at the earnest look in Thor’s blue eyes and ruffled his son’s hair. “Good boy. Although...I should not have spoken so harshly to you. I was in an irritable mood and I took it out on you without knowing the entirety of the situation. I am sorry, too. Will you forgive me?” 

“Of course,” Thor said stoutly. “Are you in a better mood now?”

“I am.” Odin smiled at him.

“Good.” Thor grinned back and began rubbing himself dry.

Odin left the bathroom and found Loki tucked up in his bed, Frigga sitting on the side of it entertaining him with her illusions. A familiar black shape perched on the headboard of Loki’s bed, beady eyes fixed on the shimmering images dancing in the air. 

“I don’t suppose either of you have news for me?” he asked, not even having to glance to the right to know that there would be a matching raven perched on Thor’s headboard. Always the same, Muninn on Loki’s bed, Huginn on Thor’s.

“Story!” Muninn croaked happily. 

“Story!” Huginn agreed. 

Odin gave a rueful shake of his head, having long since accepted that the ravens somehow always knew when it was time for the boys’ bedtime story, and would come swooping in through an open window to take up their places. Loki, in particular, was actively unhappy if his feathered friend was missing, as sometimes happened when Odin had need of their services and they could not make it back to the palace at the appointed hour. And he knew, if Loki hadn’t been forbidden from touching the ravens after he’d washed up for the night, that Muninn would be nestled down at the boy’s side, having his feathers gently stroked. Despite the birds’ size, and formidable beaks and claws, Loki had never had the slightest fear of them, and Odin had stopped worrying that the ravens might even accidentally hurt one of the boys once Loki had grown old enough to prove that he understood that they were not like stuffed toys who could be grabbed and played with whenever he wanted, but intelligent creatures with moods who sometimes did not want to be handled. 

Thor came padding in from the bathing room dressed in his sleep clothes and Frigga vanished her illusions and rose, waiting while he climbed into his bed to tuck him in and give him a goodnight kiss before sitting down next to Thor and looking at Odin expectantly. Odin claimed her vacated place next to Loki. 

“Have you decided on a story yet?” he asked. 

“Gwydion the magician and the forming of Blodeuwedd,” said Loki promptly. 

“Very well. Once upon a time, in the part of Midgard that is called Cymru, the magician Gwydion had a nephew named -- well, he didn’t have a name, for his mother had refused to give him one...” 


	2. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lokijiro prompted: Imagine Loki as a child feeling troubled by the fact that he saw a few portraits of the Allmother being pregnant, but only with Thor. He searches all over the palace for a portrait of Frigga being pregnant with him. A painting, a tapestry, a stained glass window, anything. He finds portraits of other queens pregnant with their spare children, but there’s no trace at all of Queen Frigga being pregnant with her second son. It’s like no one cared.

He mentions it to her.

"It was war time, sweetie, and your father and most of our warriors were away fighting. If anyone had known that I was pregnant, I might have been seen as unfit to rule as my condition advanced, or, worse, been seen as a target for a kidnapping or assassination attempt. Magic can conceal many things, my love. No one knew of your coming arrival until your father came back from the war."

"Oh." Relief swept through him, and he automatically lifted up his arms, wanting to be close to his mother, and she obligingly lifted him up into her lap, where he snuggled close. "I knew it couldn't be true."

"What couldn't be true?" Frigga asked, narrowing her eyes and suspecting the answer as she stroked his hair.

"Someone said that you weren't my mother, that you were never pregnant with me, that...that I was one of Father's by-blows, gotten on some camp follower during the war."

Frigga's eyebrows rose. ""One of"?" she repeated. "Have you got some other brothers and sisters lurking around that I don't know about?"

Loki giggled.

Frigga kissed the top of his head firmly. "Your father has more honour than to do such a thing to me. I promise that you are as much my child as you are his; don't you ever, ever doubt that, my son. We did explain, when we introduced you to the court, but not everyone understands magic the way we do, do they?" She held out a hand, and let a small flame appear above it.

Loki beamed and held out his own smaller hand, conjuring a matching flame to dance above his palm. He couldn’t do much more, yet, but his mother had promised she would teach him everything that she could, that she could sense that he had great magic within him. “No.” 

Frigga let hers wink out of existence and hugged him tightly. "There. How could you ever think that you weren't my son? You,” she said firmly, and kissed him again, a loud, smacking kiss against his temple, “Were simply the best secret surprise ever.” 


	3. Teething Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Loki is cutting a new tooth. Or, in which everything not tied down is a chew toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post by lokijiro.

"Mama, Loki is chewing on my blocks!" complained Thor, trying to wrest the wooden block out of Loki's mouth.

"He's cutting a new tooth, Thor, and chewing on something helps. Surely you can spare one?" Frigga was sitting near the nursery window, working on a blanket for Loki, all soft greens, the lighter shades that she’d started with blending into darker ones the further up she went. 

Thor looked from his half-built castle to the pile of blocks on the nursery floor still waiting to be used. "I guess. But sometimes Loki puts things into his mouth that he shouldn't, so I didn't know if it was okay," he said virtuously.

"The block is fine. But you're right; he shouldn't have anything sharp or rough, or small enough to swallow and choke on. I wouldn't want him to have a stick from the garden, for instance. He could scratch himself or poke it in his eye or choke on a bit of bark or twig if it broke off. Or it could be dirty or moldy or have a caterpillar crawling on it. We wouldn't want Loki to swallow any poor caterpillars, would we? So I'm glad you asked; thank you for looking out for your brother."

Thor knew that _really_ , he just hadn't wanted Loki chewing on his toys, but he beamed and pushed his shoulders back proudly. "All right, you can have the block," he told Loki. There _were_ more than enough. "After all, brothers share, right Mama?"

Frigga beamed back at him. "Yes, they do. It might seem a little one-sided at first -- Loki doesn't have much yet that he can share with you -- but I promise it will even out as you get older."

The sound of footsteps made them both look up.

"Papa!" Thor jumped to his feet. "Come see what I'm building!"

Odin smiled and laid Gungnir down on the sofa, feeling the concerns of a king melt from his shoulders as the nursery door closed behind him. He had had a productive day, and felt he had more than earned some time alone with his family before dinner. He surveyed the towering piles of blocks, the tallest as high as Thor's head.

"Very impressive.” He looked down at his smallest son, sitting on the nearby rug and assiduously gumming on a wooden block. Ever since Loki had started crawling, he was rarely far from Thor’s side. “Is Loki helping you?"

"No, he's just watching. And chewing on the construction materials." Thor said the phrase carefully, having heard it used in a conversation between his father and one of his advisors the other day. He was pleased to have an opportunity to use it himself already; it sounded more grown-up than "blocks".

"I see that. How's the tooth coming, young man?" Odin leaned down and picked Loki up, nudging the block Loki held clutched in his fist away from his mouth. "May I see?" He ran a finger over the sharp white nub breaking through Loki's gums and winced when Loki clamped down on his finger for his trouble. "Sore, is it?" he asked sympathetically. "Do you think you could -- ah, that's better." Odin extracted his finger as Loki relaxed his bite with an unhappy little sound, tucking his head under Odin's chin. "Another day or two and the worst should be over," he promised, kissing the top of Loki's head. At least until the next one, he thought, but chose not to burden his son with the knowledge that he was going to have to go through this seventeen more times after this tooth was through.

"You can pass me blocks if you want," Thor said, and Odin put Loki back down on the rug.

“Let me go greet your mother first, and then I am at your service.” Frigga turned up her face towards him with a smile as he approached, and he gave her a quick kiss. “Have you had a good day, my love?”

“I have, and I needn’t even ask; I can tell you’ve had a good day too.” 

“I have; for once the meeting with the Council didn’t run overlong and we dealt with all the points on the agenda. If you have no objection, I thought I could spend the next few hours with you and the boys.” 

“This is nothing we would enjoy more,” Frigga assured him, and watched fondly as he returned to Thor and began to pass blocks as directed, listening to their eldest chatter about his day. After a few minutes she took advantage of his presence to concentrate on her weaving for several rows, before glancing back up and noticing that Loki was no longer sitting where she had last seen him, gnawing on his wood block. She quickly looked around, her heart skipping a beat when she found him.

"Odin," she said, keeping her voice calm. "Please take Gungnir away from Loki."

Odin spun around, then relaxed when he saw that Loki had been able to reach the butt end of Gungnir where it hung off the edge of the sofa, and was now chewing on it with apparent contentment. "Bor’s beard," he swore, all too able to picture a bleeding, screaming Loki if Loki had grabbed at the other end of the spear. "Sorry. Not used to him being able to crawl yet. It won't happen again." He went over to Loki and tried to pull the spear away, but Loki tightened his chubby fingers around it in a surprisingly strong grip. 

“Come now, aren’t you a bit young to challenge me for my own weapon? After you snuck away and tried to steal it behind my back?” Odin gently pried Loki’s fingers away from the shaft and pulled it free from him. “My fault, though, for leaving it where you could reach it.” He was about to place it somewhere safely out of reach when he saw Loki’s lower lip jut out and his expression change to one that meant that a vocal outburst was imminent. He quickly let Gungnir fall back to the sofa and scooped up Loki instead. “Oh no,” he said hastily, jiggling Loki in an attempt to distract him. “No no no, shh, no crying. Warriors don’t cry. Frigga? Do you -- “

Frigga was already rising, with Loki’s coral teething ring in her hand. “He’s not a warrior, Odin, he’s a baby, and he’s in pain. Here, sweetheart, do you want this?” She held out the ring to Loki. 

“Yes, I know,” said Odin testily. “But do you want him to cry? It’s not going to make him feel any better; it’s just going to make his face feel hot and congested on top of the discomfort that he already is in.” He gentled his voice, addressing Loki as he smoothed down the wavy black hair sticking up on Loki’s crown. “I’m sorry you can’t have my spear to chew on. But you can have your ring, eh? Or a licorice root? Or a cold wet cloth? What do you say, hm?”

Loki looked at the ring that Frigga was waving in front of him temptingly, but then simply held out both arms to her in a silent request. 

“Oh, that’s it, come to Mama. I’ve got you.” Frigga took Loki from Odin, and rubbed his back gently “That’s my good boy, my sweet baby boy. Your papa _is_ probably right that crying wouldn’t make you feel any better today,” she admitted. “But you can if you need to, even when you’ve become a man full-grown. There’s no shame in tears if a hurt grows too much to bear.” She kept her voice soft, conversational, and her eyes on Loki, but the latter words were for Thor, nearby and listening. “Isn’t that right, Odin?” She looked at her husband pointedly, her expression daring him to disagree with her, and cut her eyes to Thor and back, meaningfully.

“Ah, of course. What I _meant_ to say was that warriors don’t cry in battle, because they’re too busy fighting,” Odin ad-libbed, hoping that this would be enough to satisfy Frigga. “And getting distracted and blurry-eyed is just asking to get your throat slit,” he added matter-of-factly, and saw Frigga roll her eyes. “But if they had a good reason to, they could cry afterwards. _However_ , not getting to use a dangerous weapon as a chew toy is _not_ a good enough reason,” he chided, tapping Loki on the nose. Loki let go of Frigga’s gown with one hand and grabbed at his finger. It really was a good, strong grip, Odin noted approvingly.

“Loki’s going to be a warrior, like me,” Thor informed them, leaving his blocks and walking over to join them. “Of course he wants a weapon.” 

“He may have one when he’s old enough to wield it properly,” Odin said firmly. 

“It’s odd, though,” Frigga said, finally getting Loki to take the teething ring by wriggling it enticingly in front of him. “He doesn’t usually like the feel of metal in his mouth. Was he really trying to hold onto it?” Although Loki had taken the ring, he didn’t seem that interested in it, and twisted around to look back at the sofa even as Frigga spoke, his preference obvious.

“He was,” confirmed Odin. He pulled out a handkerchief and picked up Gungnir, feeling the familiar thrum of magic running through the spear. Was that it? he wondered thoughtfully. Could Loki feel it too? He wiped the drool off the end of the spear and held it out towards Loki. Loki’s eyes lit up and he immediately grabbed the shaft. 

“Odin?” Frigga queried, unsure of what he was doing. 

“I think he can feel Gungnir’s magic,” Odin explained. “If he can, I’m not sure if it just feels interesting to him or if it could actually feel soothing to his gums.” He squashed the sudden urge to put the damn thing into his own mouth, out of curiousity. “But let me try something.” He stepped back and pulled the spear out of Loki’s grip again, grounding it. “Give me his teething ring for a moment.” 

Frigga pressed her lips together. She had just gotten Loki to take the ring. If he started crying... But he was only holding onto it halfheartedly, and let her take it back without protest. “Here.” She held it out. “What -- “

Odin leveled Gungnir and sent a stream of warm golden magic into the teething ring, briefly illuminating it before the glow faded. “Now let’s see how he likes it.” 

Loki’s enthusiasm was obvious the moment Frigga offered him the ring again. He seized it with a happy babble and began gnawing on it at once. Extending her senses out, she could feel the hum of magic now inhabiting the ring. Not enough to be used for anything, but enough to make the formerly dead object now feel warm and alive. “Well,” she said, unable to think of anything more coherent to say but pleased that Loki looked happier again. 

“What did you do?” asked Thor, puzzled. 

“I fed a little of Gungnir’s magic into the teething ring,” explained Odin. 

“Could you do that to something of mine?” asked Thor with interest, wondering if magic could bring one of his toy soldiers to life. 

“Tell me, can you feel anything when you place your hand upon Gungnir?” Odin asked, holding it out so Thor could wrap his fingers around the shaft below his own. 

Thor hesitated, tempted to lie, but if asked, he did not know what it was he was supposed to feel. He shook his head. “No. Nothing special.” 

“Then there would be no point in enchanting any of your possessions. I wouldn’t _expect_ you to be able to feel anything,” he hastened to assure Thor when he saw Thor’s face fall in disappointment. “You are yet young, and no seidr user; you did not fail any test. But Loki obviously did, and for someone of his age to be so sensitive to the feel of magic -- “

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise, with his inborn ability to shapeshift. But that was a gift of his birth race, while the magic flowing through Gungnir was the power of Asgard itself. Truly Loki was a child of two worlds, except again he felt that Loki had very specifically chosen _him_ , had chosen Asgard. Were the Norns trying to tell him something? Was Frigga right in claiming that Loki had been meant for them, not just for raising but for always? Would Asgard be served best by a king who had a loyal brother standing by his side? He glanced down at Thor, looking up at him expectantly, and impulsively set Gungnir safely down on top of the wardrobe out of the reach of curious children’s hands before lifting Thor up into his arms, enjoying the feel of his boy’s solid, sturdy weight and Thor automatically winding his arms around him, glad that the war had ended, glad that he was missing no more of his son’s childhood. 

“Papa?” Thor prompted, wanting to know what his father was going to say about Loki. He looked across at his brother from his new vantage point and made the silliest faces he could, feeling triumphant when a tiny giggle escaped Loki. 

Odin looked down at Thor, and then he looked at his wife, crooning endearments to Loki while cradling him in her arms and swaying gently, her eyes full of love and adoration. And then he looked at Loki, with a small baby smile on his face thanks to his brother’s antics and content now with his head resting against his mother’s chest with a full confidence that it belonged there, while he gummed a princely teething ring infused with Asgard’s magic, with the king’s magic, and he shook his head in wonderment. What had never been more than vague plans for a far-off future seemed to vapourise into thin air. Deliberately setting his boys on different paths that would lead them away from each other no longer seemed like the right thing to do. Asgard was Loki’s home now, for as long as he wished it. 

“Well,” he said, finally finishing his thought, “I think we are going to have a sorcerer in the family.” 

> 


	4. Naked Wrestling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki : What are you doing?  
> Frigga : Your father and I were just wrestling, darling.  
> Loki : Why are you naked?  
> Odin : Because only cowards wear clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the lokijiro post quoted in the summary. I could have so easily turned this into full-on smut, but I restrained myself. Right decision? Wrong? Does anyone want to see Frigga banging Odin senseless? I don't see myself getting super detailed if an opening for it arises again, but I could have added enough to bump the rating up a notch. Teen and up for this chapter, I think.

"What are you doing?"

To say they were startled by the sudden intrusion of a six year old boy into their bedroom would have been an understatement. Odin pulled Frigga down beside him with alacrity and yanked a sheet up cover them. 

"Your father and I were just wrestling, darling," Frigga said with admirable aplomb, although her heart was still beating double time. 

"Why are you naked?" their son asked suspiciously. 

"Because only cowards wear clothes," Odin quipped blithely.

"And we got hot," added Frigga. "And sweaty."

"And it's easier to wash a sheet than silks and leather," murmured Odin very close to her ear. She smacked him under the sheet, her expression remaining perfectly neutral.

"Ouch," he protested.

Loki's big blue eyes darted between them uncertainly.

"Anyway, was there something you wanted, darling?" Frigga smiled at Loki. He looked rumpled, as if he had been running around with Thor.

"I...I just heard some noises in here and I wondered what was going on."

"Just wrestling," said Frigga glibly, which wasn't a complete untruth. She had just gotten Odin pinned to the mattress, too. "Why don't you go find Thor and play until dinner? We'll see you then. And make sure you close the doors behind you."

"Thor's outside in the corridor. He said you sounded fine to him and not to interrupt. But I wanted to make sure."

"We are. Perfectly fine," said Frigga firmly, her eyes widening as Odin's hand began to slide, teasingly, along her body. She grabbed it and halted its journey beneath the sheet. Damn him, why was he not _helping_? She tightened her grip on him when he tried to tug his hand free.

"Go on, Loki," said Odin at last, his voice full of amusement. "We'll see you at dinner. Thank you for your concern, though, it's good to know you're looking out for us."

"All right," said Loki. He knew something more was going on here, but he wasn't quite sure what. Thor seemed to know, though, or at least have a guess; he would get it out of him. He backed out of the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind him.

Listening hard, Frigga waited until she heard the heavier door leading out into the corridor thud shut before she finally let her face relax and collapsed back onto her pillow. "Oh Norns." Odin buried his face against her shoulder and started to laugh. She smacked him again, but then couldn't help running her fingers through the soft grey fall of his hair.

"What was that for?" he demanded, affronted.

"For you trying to make me lose my composure when Loki was here! I was just hanging onto it by the skin of my teeth when your hand started wandering!"

Odin grinned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"You are not sorry, you old goat! Don't think I can't see you smirking into your beard."

"I would be if I thought you were truly upset." Odin rolled onto his side and stroked the side of her face with his thumb, his fingers curling around the back of her neck.

Frigga sighed and shook her head, unable to keep the smile from her lips. "I'm not. But oh, Loki! He looked so confused. I hope you're not going to have to give him an early version of the Sex Talk."

"Ugh. So do I." He'd already had to answer a few questions from Thor, since Frigga had fairly pointed out that Thor might have questions that only a man could answer, while promising that she would of course explain things if they ever had any daughters. "We should have locked the doors."

"You distracted me," she said primly, but she did so now, reaching out with her magic to seal the doors and casting a silencing spell to boot. It wasn't often that Odin had time in the middle of the day for something like this; by the time she realised where it was heading, she wasn't thinking much about practical concerns at all. 

"I don't think either of us was planning on -- ah, is 'wrestling' the term we're going to be using now?" He wound a lock of her hair around his finger and tugged it teasingly.

"Mm. Things rather escalated. But what about now? Is the mood gone? Or do we pick up where we left off?" Under the sheet, she slid her hand down his body, investigating.

"If you think that I am going to let either one of us leave this bed unsatisfied, then you are quite mistaken, wife." His voice was low and husky with promise.

"Oh." Frigga smirked. Unsurprisingly, certain things had flagged a little thanks to Loki's interruption, but it took very little effort on her part to reverse that, especially when she sat up, the sheet falling down her body to pool at her waist. She watched her husband's eye darken with desire as he followed it. "Well, then." She pushed him over onto his back, and straddled his hips. “I believe we were interrupted somewhere around this point.”

Odin lay back without protest and gazed up at his wife reverently. “No Valkyrie was ever more glorious than you.”

“Perhaps I should wear my armour next time,” she suggested, and felt the slight hitch of his hips beneath her.

“I would not object.” His fingers flexed upon her hips, imagining it.

Frigga raised her eyebrows. “Noted.” She stretched out upon him and stole a kiss before straightening again. "Now, shall we see if I can carry you to Valhalla without it?"


End file.
